Among the Ranks
by USMADUCK07
Summary: This is the first chapter of a story that digs into the selection, training, and employment of Death Troopers. *Appreciate any constructive criticism*


CHAPTER 1: THROUGH THE DOOR

The shuttle shook slightly as it entered the atmosphere. Candidate Nine slowly opened his eyes. Above him a red floodlight cast the space in a very familiar shade. The air smelled of stale sweat and ship lubricant. It was a smell that Candidate Nine had become accustom to over the past decade and it brought him comfort.

It meant purpose.

He sat up and looked around the troop compartment. There were eight other candidates throughout the cabin in various positions of rest. They were all accustomed to being crammed into these shuttles, but their small number meant an opportunity to stretch out and catch up on sleep. Something that had been in very limited supply over the last few months. The only candidate not resting was Candidate Fifteen. He was sitting at a terminal going over maps of the objective and had a headset on so he could listen to the comms net that the pilots were on. He had been tapped to be the team leader for this mission. A role they all had performed multiple times throughout selection.

This selection process had started out with two hundred troopers handpicked from across the military and through quitting, injury, and, even death. Only ten remained and, hopefully, they were reaching the end.

Candidate Fifteen got up from the terminal, taking off the headset. He looked over at Nine and held up three fingers to signal three minutes to drop. Nine acknowledged the signal by returning it. Several other candidates returned the signal. Candidate Twenty was racked out and Candidate Twenty-Five smacked him on the head and held three fingers a few inches from his face. Twenty gave a sleepy thumbs up and closed his eyes. Nine shook is head. On the surface Twenty didn't fit, he was a little over two meters tall, gangly, and came off as unathletic. But on the objective Twenty transformed into a focused weapon. His hand to hand combat skills were unmatched in the selection group.

Candidate Nine stood up and stretched his legs. Usually, this time would be used to load weapons, power up comms equipment, and run through the required checks to ensure that each trooper was ready to fight once the ramp dropped. However, they were not allowed any of the equipment that tended to tilt the battle in the Empire's favor. They were wearing black utilities and only allowed a combat knife. Nine had his knife secured to his right thigh and pulled it out. Unlike the rest of the candidates, who carried the doubled edged ceramic blades issued by the Empire, Nine carried a metal blade that he had been "gifted" by an insurgent a few years ago.

_The exchange had occurred during a raid to clear a village. The locals had begun attacking logistics convoys and harassing the local garrison. Nine and his unit were tasked with clearing this village of any hostiles. The clearance was going smoothly and Nine was checking out a small shack when a single human male came out from behind a stack of baskets next to the front entrance. The attack came so suddenly that Nine was unable to bring up his rifle before the male was on top of him. The male was strong and overpowered Nine, pushing him into a row of shelves that lined a nearby wall. As soon as they hit the wall, Nine felt a sharp pain in his right thigh. The fight went to ground before two of Nine's squad mates entered the shack. One trooper grabbed the assailant, threw him into a corner of the shack, and the other neutralized him with two well placed shots. _

_The burning in his thigh was the knife that had been buried up to its hilt. It was a routine wound that the medic fixed quickly but Nine held onto the knife as a reminder. The Empire wasn't too fond of its soldiers using equipment other than what was issued but Nine's reputation among his peers and superiors allowed this small rebellion. _

The door to the cockpit opened, a member of the flight crew entered the troop compartment. He signaled one minute to Candidate Fifteen and began to prep the troop compartment for drop. He started folding the seats up and dimmed the compartment lights.

Nine felt his hands start to shake slightly but a few deep breaths and they steadied. He was ready.

The pitch of the engines changed as the shuttles forward momentum slowed down. The crew member went to the portside door and opened it. He leaned out and checked the clearance around the door. He leaned back in and gave fifteen a thumbs up and stepped away from the door. Fifteen took up position next to the door and faced the squad that was already lined up along the portside of the shuttle. Fifteen reached out and grabbed the shoulder of the first candidate in line. The warm, humid air of the planet came through the open door and condensation began to form on the interior walls. Fifteen tapped the first candidate on the shoulder. The candidate faced the door and took a deliberate step out the door and into the dark of the night. The line of candidates quickly shortened as Fifteen sent them out the door at an even pace. Nine's turn came. He stepped out the door, looked to the sky, brought his legs together, and wrapped his arms around his body with his right hand on his face to protect it. He felt his heart jump into his throat as he quickly dropped from the shuttle. Nine always felt like he was hanging in the air forever when conducting these types of insertions. Right about when he started to wonder where the water was he felt his boots hit and was quickly underwater. Nine slowly surfaced and look around for his team. The low whine of the shuttle was replaced by the distant sound of the surf breaking as the shuttle headed back to up into the higher atmosphere. The candidates formed back up and Twenty-Three took the lead as the group began a slow, stealthy swim in the direction of the sound of the distant crashing waves.


End file.
